


For I Was Spellbound By Your Incandescence

by ravensnwritingdesks



Series: Fantastic AUs [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Cabarets, CigaretteGirl!Tina, Courtship, F/M, Mentions of Sexual Harassment, Mentions of drugs, Newtina Appreciation Month, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Pining, Secret Messages, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Zoologist!Newt, lots of smiles, not a single cigarette is lit, touch-averse Newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensnwritingdesks/pseuds/ravensnwritingdesks
Summary: New York, November 1926. Zoologist Newt Scamander was on the hunt for information about a notorious smuggler of exotic animals. Little did he know - or expect - that the dodgy place he'd been directed to would offer him a lot more than that: a reason to return.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Newtina Appreciation Month - Week 2! This AU is another one of the things I had buried deep inside my WIP folder with no motivation to finish. Until now.
> 
> The story is very loosely based on and heavily inspired by the song [Varieté Obscur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-s9nQ2waKg) by German Gothic-Novel-Rock band ASP. So if you know the language (or find a suitable translation for the lyrics), you're welcome to have a listen.

This couldn’t be right. Newt looked once again at the piece of paper in his hand, where a straight-forward New York address was put down in scrawly handwriting. Doubtful, his gaze flitted upward again to the row of glittering lights before him, proudly proclaiming the establishment’s name: _Varieté Noir_.

This was where his contact wanted him to go? A cabaret. Or at least a place of entertainment of sorts. Going by the posters and advertisements visible outside, possibly even a freak show. He grimaced at the thought. A couple brushed past him as he stood there debating whether to go in or not. For a few seconds the door opened to let some deep notes drift out from from the depths behind.

Newt sighed. He didn’t particularly enjoy loud places. Crowded with people, most likely dancing, laughing, drinking… It just wasn’t for him. But this was the only place where his informant could be found, according to his other sources. And he needed to talk to the man to finally move forward.

He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped forward into battle.

 

It wasn’t as bad as he had initially thought. A woman behind a counter greeted him friendly, took his overcoat and an entry fee before sending him on his way down the stairs and into the actual place of business. It wasn’t crowded down there, just as it wasn’t overly loud, and there seemed to be no dancing, either. The room and balconies were filled with wide circles of tables, facing a quite small stage and separated by partitions for privacy.

A rather strange thing of a night club, this was. But he wasn’t here for entertainment anyway, was he?

Newt found a table in the back corner of the lower floor, out of the way but still with a nice view of the stage should there be any interesting acts tonight. He ordered a drink (the alcohol here wasn’t even hidden but on their menus!), then inquired after the name he had been given, receiving nothing but a curt nod from the waiter as he left.

Soon enough, a man slid into the seat next to him. Tall, broad and muscled. Exactly what he had expected. “You been asking ‘bout me, I’m told.”

“Mr. Skender?”

The man gave a nod.

“Right. I’m looking for information.”

Skender narrow his eyes at this. “You police?”

“No, merely an interested party. You’ve been working with a certain group of people, I understand. Illicit night-time shipments at the harbour.”

“That kind o’ gossip’s gonna cost you.”

Newt nodded, taking a small envelope from inside of his jacket. “There’s 10 Dollar in here.”

A laugh. “I’m gonna need more than that to rat on those people, man!”

Fully having expected that answer, he rummaged through his jacket once more and showed the man another envelope. “An additional 15. Yours, after you tell me what I need to know.”

The man licked his lips, then nodded and reached for the first envelope to count the bills inside. “Yeah, that’ll do, I guess. What d’you wanna know?”

“Names, places. Anything you can tell me about their next operations.”

The man rolled his eyes, then turned around and flagged down the waiter. “I’m gonna need to wet my lips for all that.”

In the end it took Newt less than ten minutes to get all the information he needed, most of it matching with what he already knew from other sources or had suspected himself.

“But I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout any next operations. I get a call when they need an extra hand, that’s that.”

“I see. Any calls lately?”

A shrug. “Just the one I just told you ‘bout, man. Nothin’ since.”

“Anything you might have picked up that night?”

The man pondered his question for a moment. “There was talk about some big cash coming their way, soon. But that’s all I heard.”

Newt nodded and finally handed him the promised compensation. “For your helpfulness, Mr. Skender.”

The man quickly grasped the money and counted it out, before flashing him a smile. “Glad doin‘ business with you.“

And then he was gone again. For such a big guy, he had impressive skills of stealth.

 

Newt sat in the half-dark, nursing a second glass of highly illegal whiskey as he mulled over this new information. Soon his eyes were drawn to the stage, though, where a lithe acrobat demonstrated the most impossible contortions of the body. _Snake-man_ , he called himself: half man, half reptile. A scientific impossibility, Newt knew, but it was a better sale of his art than _man with years of training_.

The act was followed by very talented singer, who commandeered the stage to the sound of an invisible orchestra. He knew the tune of the song, but couldn’t decipher the language it was sung in.

“Cigarettes, sir?“

The voice pulled him from his trance and he blinked at the woman in front of him in confusion before her words registered with him. She carried a tray in front of her, secured by a strap around her neck, displaying different wares and goods. Most of them tobacco, some chocolates and mints… things the guests here might like to purchase throughout the night.

“Uhm. No, thank you.“

She cocked her head, the little black hat on top tipping sideways with it. “You must be new to the _Varieté_. None of the regulars are actually watching the show anymore. Enjoying it?“

Newt nodded, suddenly feeling the need to avoid any eye contact with her. He was no good with small talk, especially where women were concerned… let alone in a night club such as this. His gaze dropped down to the tray again, where her delicate hands held on to the worn edges of black-painted wood and gold-coloured tassels.

“Maybe some chocolates? They’re not even half-way through the program, you know.”

She shifted her stance, inadvertently offering him a glance at her stockinged legs instead… visible all the way up to her knees. Newt swallowed as his mouth suddenly went dry, ripping his eyes away from the enticing sight.

“N-no, thank you.”

“Well, I had to try.” She shrugged and chuckled. “You’re not much of a chatty person, are you?”

He gave her a wry smile, or tried to at least. It might have come out as more of a grimace than intended. No, he was certainly _not_ made for this kind of situation.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’ll be around for most of the night.” She gave him a smile. “Enjoy your evening, sir.“

And with that, she moved on to the next table.

Newt hastily downed the rest of his drink, wetting his parched throat to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. If only he had left earlier, he could have avoided this situation entirely… would not have made such a fool of himself just now. But, oh well. Better late than never.

Five minutes after, Newt Scamander had settled his bill, retrieved his coat and made his way back out into the cool air of the November night. He still had plans to make.

 

* * *

 

Newt sighed. Here he was again, inside the _Varieté Noir_ with all its red and gold pomp hidden in half-light. Back for more information.

Despite his best attempts, those smugglers had slipped through his fingers before he could even try to liberate their living “goods”. Too quick and organized had their operation been, too professional. His next attempt would hopefully be backed up by the police, but for that he needed more on Grimmson’s current whereabouts and plans.

He took the same table as during his previous visit, nursing his drink while waiting for Skender to finally make an appearance. The waiter had been as curt as last time, taking his inquiry with a nod before vanishing from sight. That had been half a lifetime ago, though.

“Cigarettes, sir?“ The voice pulled him from his thoughts. The same woman as last time, smiling as she offered him her treats on a tray to choose from.

Nervously, he scanned the room behind her, hoping to find a glimpse of the man he’d been waiting for… but no such luck. Even though it was the same choice as the last time he’d been here, he let his gaze drift and hover over the tobacco and chocolates again, just to bide his time.

“No, thank you,“ he finally managed, barely in time to avoid any more awkwardness through his silence.

A hum of amusement. “And here I was, thinking after a whole month away you’d come to change your mind.”

He sharply looked up at her in surprise. She had recognized him? How?

“You’re British,” she chuckled, answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. “We don’t get too many of those in here. ‘Specially not on their own.”

She leaned a little closer, adding in a mock whisper. “Your kind usually travels in little flocks, did you know?”

Newt couldn’t help but grimace at her keen observation. Little flocks, yes, she got that right. And any outing under three people was usually considered a pity party.

“I’m not like the others,” he acknowledged. “More of a… a solitary animal.” Risking a short glance at her after the admission, he found it had earned him a smile. An actual, honest smile, by the looks of it.

“Well, then. I’ll be around should you need anything after all. Enjoy your evening, sir.”

He watched her work her way around the room after that, offering her wares at every table and chatting amicably with those patrons buying from her. Even in the half-dark of the room, she was unmistakable among the people, in her red dress and the little black hat. It matched the décor of the whole establishment, he only noticed now. Red and gold, with a touch of black. He felt his mouth go dry again and took a sip from his drink.

There was another woman working the upper levels of the floor, blonde and rather more coquettish than this one. The sight made him glad not to have chosen a table up there on his first visit. He could deal with words and smiles, but a stranger putting her hand on him was a different thing entirely. By now the singer had vanished from stage again, making way for a pair of mimes. Where was Skender?

The next time he found the cigarette girl glancing in his direction, Newt finally worked up the courage and gestured for her to come over. She approached the table with a satisfied grin.

“Changed you mind then, have you. What can I do for you, sir?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Uhm. Would you happen to know when Mr. Skender is available to see me?”

She frowned. “Skender hasn’t been in today. You’ve been waiting on him all night?”

He nodded and sighed in annoyance. “That waiter probably forgot to tell me.”

“Who, Johnny?” She nodded over to the liveried man two tables over. “Yeah, I can imagine. Anything to keep a table occupied.”

He reached for his glass, ready to finish the drink and finally call it a night. He needed to be at the Zoological Society early tomorrow morning. “Just have to try my luck tomorrow, then.”

“Monday is our day off, sir. You should come back on Tuesday.”

“Oh. Thank you for letting me know, miss.” He nodded at her in thanks.

“You’re welcome.” She gave him another smile and turned to leave, finally responding to the calls from a neighbouring table.

Newt knocked back the rest of his drink and got up to settle his bill. This time there would be no tip for the waiter, though.

 

* * *

 

He was back at his table two nights later, just as the show was about to begin. This time he didn’t need to wait for a waiter to inquire after the man he was looking for, though. Skender slid in next to him mere moments after he had sat down himself.

“What d’you want now?” he asked gruffly. The man looked a little worse for wear today, with some distinctive scratches on on his cheek and the back of his hands. (Up his arms, too, Newt suspected.) Claw marks.

“You got a call, I assume.” Newt nodded at his face. Those would definitely scar, by the look of it.

Skender shrugged. “What about it?”

“Anything you picked up while handling those… goods?” He patted his jacket pocket.

“Besides the scratches, you mean.”

Newt nodded. “I’m sure they pay you well, but given the danger that seems to come with the jobs… is it good enough?”

Skender looked away for a moment, clearly thinking about the offer. “Who are you?”

“I told you, an interested party.”

“Scratch that shit, man. Who are you really?”

Newt nearly flinched as Skender raised his voice, but only nearly. “I’m working for the New York Zoological Society. There’s some concern about… exotic animals getting into the wrong hands.” His own concern, mostly. But Skender didn’t need to know that.

“What, you gonna try and stop Grimmson doin’ business?”

Newt nodded. “Hopefully. The animal trade, at least. He can ship in all the booze he wants, if you ask me.”

This time they spent a lot longer than ten minutes together, going over the details for Grimmson’s next shipment of exotic animals.

 

“Cigarettes, sir?”

A smile flitted over his face at the sound of her voice. “Thank you, no.”

She rolled her eyes, still refusing to to leave for better customers. “Got what you needed from Skender?”

Newt took a sip from his drink, his fourth one tonight, and nodded. The alcohol, and his success, made him feel a little more chatty than usual. “Thank you for sending him over. I assume, that was you?”

She nodded, then suddenly eyed the glass in his hands with suspicion. “You’re not police, though, are you?”

Newt chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh no, I leave _that_ to my brother, miss.”

He glanced at her, still not all too comfortable with eye contact yet, and found her rather alarmed. He clarified. “He’s with Scotland Yard, in London. Your workplace quite safe from him.”

That made her chuckle and relax again. “In that case, you're welcome.”

Newt watched her busy herself, rearranging some of the cigars and cigarettes on her tray. He noticed her delicate hands, nimbly flitting over the wares on the heavy tray. It couldn’t be easy, lugging that thing around all night.

“Well, then.” He looked up just in time to find her smiling. “Enjoy your evening, sir.”

He watched her go back to work, again. The contortionist was back on stage, winding himself around hoops and causing a few of the people at a nearby table to gasp. But it turned out that the dark-haired cigarette vendor held his attention far more than anything the people the stage did throughout the night. 

He felt a slight sting in his chest when he saw her give that lovely smile of hers to one of the other men a few tables over. _Really, Scamander?_ he chastised himself. _You didn’t think you were the only one she had a smile for here, did you? You, of all people!_ (The voice in his head suddenly sounded suspiciously like his brother.)

A puppeteer had entered the stage by now, pulling the strings behind a story only few people here were actually aware of. Most of the other guests were busy with each other, talking, drinking, laughing all over the little booths and secluded tables the _Varieté Noir_ offered. Others… well, they seemed to be _busy_ with each other. Couples, Newt noticed, and blushed furiously when he accidentally glimpsed where exactly the hands of one gentleman in particular had found occupation.

He had been right to stay away from those powders he’d been offered at the entrance and the bar. They limited all sense and inhibitions, it seemed.

He downed his drink and left. Hopefully for good. 

The cigarette girl gave him one last smile as he passed her on his way out.

 

* * *

 

Despite his best intentions, Newt returned merely two weeks later, at the beginning of the new year. And kept coming back, even after Grimmson had finally been shut down and no more help from the informant was needed. But the _Varieté Noir_ had still held his thoughts and dreams captive until he finally returned to the place itself. One unlisted attraction of the establishment did so in particular.

“Cigarettes, sir?“ Her voice brought a smile to his lips each and every time he heard it. It was a soft, pleasant sound he had come to associate with a friendly smile, little quips and a sort of silent companionship… just by being in the same room with her.

Their routine remained the same each night. He perused the goods on her tray, but declined with a smile. She voiced a remark or question. He answered with gestures or words, depending on his mood, before watching her move on to the next table.

And he kept an eye on her throughout the evening as she danced across the floor of the lower level, the same familiar pattern each night. Cigarettes, sir? Enjoy your evening!

Newt sat at his table in the back corner, nursing a glass of good whiskey and smiling to himself. Content with having gotten a few precious moments of her attention. And a smile.

(This was probably the most sociable he had been in months.)

 

* * *

 

“Cigarettes, honey?”

Newt looked up in surprise. Today it was not the lovely brunette in front of him but the blonde he had seen work on the upper level before. The flirty, touchy one.

“Uhm.” He looked away again, trying not to let his disappointment show… or the discomfort that suddenly started crawling along his skin at the unwelcome change. 

She sighed. “No, I didn’t think so." 

He tensed as her hand came to rest on his shoulder, resisting the urge to pull away immediately. Her touch pricked his skin uncomfortably, even through all of his layers. "Don’t you worry, we‘ve only changed tables for the night. She'll be right back here tomorrow.”

Oh. He'd been that obvious after all, hadn’t he? He bit his lip. Of course she would have noticed that he wasn’t too happy to see her. 

“Listen. I’m not gonna get involved in whatever your spiel here is, but… you’ll be making her life a little easier if you actually buy something from her once in a while, you know? And if it’s just a pack of mints.“

The hand vanished as quickly as it had come, but his tension didn’t. “Keep that in mind next time you come here to watch her, yeah? Bye, honey!”

With a playful grin, the blonde turned and left his table.

And, after gulping down his drink, so did Newt. The exchange had left him far too tense to _enjoy his evening_. 


	2. Chapter 2

It took him over a week, but in the end he couldn’t keep away for longer. The _Varieté Noir_ welcomed him with its far too inviting arms as it always had. The usual table, the usual order, the familiar program of the show. It had not varied once since his first visit to this place.

“Cigarettes, sir?”

The same voice. The blonde had spoken the truth. She was back, and even seemed to be relieved about it. He wasn’t all that good at reading people, but relief he knew how to spot. (Mostly on his colleagues, after he had turned away to leave them to their own precious work. He _did_ tend to annoy people.) 

 _Now then, time to break the routine, Scamander._ A little, at least, because that was the decision he had come to at the beginning of the night. Making her life a little easier. She was a _vendor_ , after all.

He smiled at her, as usual regarding the wares on offer. His heart suddenly beat wildly in his chest, but he still managed to clear his throat and speak. “Yes. I’ll, uh. I’ll take one of... those.”

She froze in surprise, but quickly caught herself and handed him the chosen ware after he had paid. A pack of cigarettes. He kept it in his hand, unsure what to do with his purchase now.

“I didn’t think you smoked,” she remarked, unable to keep her bewilderment out of her voice completely.

Newt shrugged, feeling equally unable to lie to her with his pulse still beating a mile an hour. “I don’t.”

Her smile turned more radiant still, the opposite of what he had actually expected to happen. And it was impossible to turn his eyes away from it. From her. Her eyes were dark in colour, he noticed. Brown, but what shade exactly he couldn’t say in the low light. (He really wanted to find out, though.)

Her gaze still trained on him, she finally prepared to move on and took a slow step back from the table. Then nearly collided with Johnny, the waiter, in the process, who gave her a scornful look in return. Flustered, she hurried to take her leave.

“Enjoy your evening, sir.” For once it was her who couldn’t meet his eyes. In that moment, at least.

 

* * *

 

They settled into this new routine just as easily as before.

“Cigarettes, sir?”

A look. A smile. “The usual.”

And if their fingers brushed together during the exchange, it turned out to be a welcome kind of touch to him. It left him feeling happy, not itching all over. Just as her smile did.

 

* * *

 

Newt nervously fumbled with the pack of cigarettes, putting little rips into the flap in his annoyance with himself. He shouldn’t have asked for her name. How foolish of him. It had been two months now. Two months of nearly regular visits, three times a week. And he didn’t even know the name of this woman who had him so utterly under her spell.

“ _What is your name?_ " She hadn’t answered him, only gave a rueful smile and wished him a good evening as usual.

He was nothing but a patron to her. A strange, and now most likely unwelcome, patron. Why oh why had he been so stupid? (And when had he ordered a new glass of whiskey?)

Caught up in his own miserable thoughts as he was, Newt didn’t even notice the cigarette girl and her loaded tray approach until she was already standing right in front of him.

“The matches you asked for, sir.”

He looked up at her, brows drawn together in confusion. He hadn’t asked for any. But she handed him a little book of matches and disappeared again with a small smile. The name of the cabaret was printed in bold letters on the front, red and black on gold. The thing looked as if it had been opened before.

Curiosity finally got the better of him, again, and he opened the lid – only to discover a small but neat writing on the inside.

_My name is Tina._

Newt hadn’t felt this relieved in a long time. He hadn’t driven her off with his curiosity after all.

 

* * *

 

“Cigarettes, sir?” Tina.

“The usual, please.”

She chuckled and offered him his usual pick of cigarettes. “Who’d have thought you’d one day be a guest with a _usual_ order, huh.”

An amused grin stole itself over his face as his gaze dropped back to the table, hiding his expression beneath his too long fringe. “Yes… who would’ve thought.” Certainly not him. Or anyone who knew him. 

She left him to himself again, as always, but continued to draw his gaze throughout the night. There was just something about her... something he was unable to put a name to yet.

The edges of the pack were well worn in his hand as he fidgeted with it. More so than they should be, he soon realized, and focussed on the purchased goods rather that the vendor for once. The flap was ripped in places – just like the one he had left behind two nights before. Every evening he’d bought something from her, really. A chuckle escaped him at the sudden realisation. Tina had probably been selling him the same old pack of cigarettes for weeks.

He fished a pencil from his jacket pocket and began to scribble something onto the inside of the flap. Maybe – just maybe – she would see it when she picked it up again tonight.

 

* * *

 

The same pack came with a book of matches the next day. _Great to finally meet you, Newt._

A grin flashed across his face as he read her words, again and again before it finally joined her other match book message in the inner pocket of his jacket. He watched her make her way around the room as usual… and if their eyes met across the room every now and then, well. He had a feeling those little smiles at least were there for him alone.

It took a bit of internal debate (and a second drink for courage) before Newt took out his notebook and composed a short message on paper. To leave behind with the cigarettes at the end of the evening, nerves permitting.

 _I only recently discovered this little deception, Miss Tina, but do not worry. I am quite okay with it. Your well-conceived plan is not out to harm anyone, after all._  
_Please do not feel obligated to answer with a note of your own, it is just that you seem a bit more forthcoming in writing than in words as of late. Not unlike me, to be honest._  
_But you already know that I am not a chatty person. I hope you don’t mind._

(His nerves decided not to desert him after all.)

 

* * *

 

“Enjoy your evening, sir!” Her voice seemed to linger as she drifted off into the half-dark of the cabaret. Her voice, and the smile it had been delivered with.

_I don’t mind at all, Newt. Although strictly speaking, I am breaking all the rules here. I am not in the habit of talking about myself while at work, much less allowed to. That includes my name, even though it is often asked for.  
But they say an exception confirms the rule, don't they? _

An exception to her rule… A pleasant kind of warmth blossomed inside him at the thought. Newt smiled.

Her note had been put into a neat little roll, fitting perfectly into the pack where one cigarette was now missing. He did his best to replicate her efforts with his reply.

_I am honoured by the trust you put in me._

 

* * *

 

Newt tapped the pencil against his lips for a while, before finally deciding on an addition to tonight’s message.

_I feel I should tell you that business will take me out of town for a few days. My visits will have to stop briefly, I’m afraid, but I shall be back Sunday next. All going well._

It had been over three months of regular visits now... He did not want her to worry.

 

* * *

 

Ten days later, Newt had found his way back into the depths of this strange cabaret. If it hadn't been for the informant, he would never have set foot into this kind of establishment... and yet his evenings in Philadelphia had felt astoundingly lonely without his visits the to _Varieté Noir_.

He smiled, already having expected the question he got in reply today. _I know you are not with the police. But then, what is it you do for a living, Newt?_

He scribbled his reply onto a new piece of paper.

 

* * *

 

_So you work at the zoo?_

He chuckled, getting ready to formulate a more detailed answer. _**With** the zoo, Miss Tina, not at the zoo. _

“Newt!“

The harsh whisper to his right drew his attention away from the paper, sending a shock of surprise through him. No one knew his name here, but one. And that voice was not Tina’s. He turned to find the flirty blonde cigarette vendor almost hidden behind the draped curtains his corner of the room.

“Newt, I need your help.”

A beat. “Excuse me?“

She rolled her eyes, a clear sign of impatience. “ _Tina_ needs your help.”

“What happened?”

The blonde shook her head. “Get your coat and meet us by the back entrance. The alley to the left. Five minutes.”

And then she was gone again, leaving him too confused and alarmed to even think properly about his next actions. A gaze across the room told him that Tina was indeed not there anymore. Newt got up and left.

He collected his coat at the entrance and bid the hostess good-night, then took a turn to the left and into an unsavoury alley where he found a back door. A massive arm opened it just a few seconds later.

“So it _is_ you, huh?” Newt found himself staring at the now scarred face of Mr. Skender once again, although the man himself did not seem too perplexed to see him.

“Uhm.” He was too caught by surprise to respond. What was this? But then the blonde lady pushed past him into view, barely holding on to a quite delirious Tina.

“Noot!” Tina giggled and draped herself over the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to stay upright as she pointed him out to her. “N-Newt’s here.”

She sighed. "I know, Teenie."

“What-?”

“She had a drink,” the sober woman explained with a grimace. 

“A drink?“ He frowned. One drink did not usually have that strong an effect on a person, even if they did not indulge often.

“Well, obviously not _just_ a drink, chucklehead!”

Oh. This was not good.

“She needs to go home, the boss can’t find her like that.” Tina was still giggling to herself. Whatever for, he had no idea though. “You gotta take her, mistah!”

“Me?” He couldn't possibly! Newt looked around in budding distress, eyes falling on Skender, waiting behind the two women. “What about him?”

“No, it’s gotta be you." She shook her head. "I don’t trust anyone else with her.” Tina’s speech started to slur now as she mumbled something into the blonde’s neck. “Please, Newt. We can’t _both_ miss work tonight.”

He sighed, torn between what he was comfortable with and what was the right thing to do. But he shouldn’t – couldn’t – leave Tina to herself in a state like this… and not when it could cost her her job, too. “Yes. Okay.”

The blonde nodded in thanks. “The address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She handed him a slip of paper, along with the woman herself.

Nodding, he took the burden off her, one arm carefully secured around Tina’s slender waist. He couldn’t make out her slurred words, but she didn’t seem in distress from being handed over to him. Her arms went around his shoulders immediately, desperately holding on despite dwindling alertness.

“You’re all right, Tina.” She gave him a tired smile. Which was good, yes. No need to aggravate her in this state. “Let’s get you home.”

The blonde watched on, biting her painted lip. “Please, make sure nothing happens to my sister tonight.”

Her sister? Newt swallowed as he looked between the two and nodded. Then made to leave and do as he was told: keep Tina safe. But he stopped short, one more question pressing his mind.

“Why me though? Why do you trust _me_ to do this?”

“’Cause you’re not like the others.” The sister gave him a warm smile and headed back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Newt startled awake, feeling groggy and as if he hadn’t had rested at all. Slowly, he turned his head from left to right, trying to get rid of the crick in his neck that had come with dozing off in a most uncomfortable position: sitting upright in a chair, chin dropped to his chest. Sometimes it had it's advantages, being able to catch some sleep wherever you find yourself, but in this instance... not so much.

Grey morning light streamed through the only window of the room he found himself in, drenching his surroundings in harsh daylight. He blinked sluggishly. Not his room, to be sure.

It took him a moment to get his bearings, to remember the happenings of the previous night. The _Varieté_. Tina, drugged and in need of help. Her sister, begging him to make sure she was safe. A knitted blanket had been placed over his shoulders in an attempt to keep him warm. Delicate pink. Newt pulled the soft wool a little tighter around himself, trying to fend off a shiver that originated from deep inside him.

The cab driver had given him a strange look when he had heaved a groggy Tina into the back seat of the car, demanding to be brought home as quickly as possible. Who knew what that man had thought of him. Not that it mattered, after all he _had_ gotten them where he was supposed to go: a tenement house on the Lower East Side. She had fallen asleep on him on the ride over, leaving him to carry her up the stairs of the run-down house. Four flights, to a small one-room-flat. He had deposited her on one of the twin beds and removed her coat and shoes for comfort before drawing the blanket over her. And then… Then he had waited.

Newt took a careful look around the room. In the daylight the flat looked quite different than it had the night before, but altogether it had lived-in and homey feel to it. The furnishings, like the table before him, were old but well kept. The walls were painted in a cheap white-wash, barely covering up the grime and soot of ages that had built up on the walls. Some books sat on the mantle of the hearth, where the fire had burnt itself out at some point during the night. A few pots and ladles hung from a rack on the wall next to it.

If he was being honest, Newt felt far more comfortable here than he had at any of his colleague’s fancy salons and dining rooms. Or even at his brother’s house.

The entrance door opened to his left, creaking loudly even though someone had made an effort to quieten the sound down. To his bewilderment, it was Tina who entered the flat, a small wash bag in her hand. Her eyes widened in surprise when she found him awake.

“Newt!”

Not for the first time, he felt unable to look away from her. She had changed out of her red work dress, wearing a simple blouse and skirt now with a dark blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. It suited her, even more so than the dress he’d already known her in. A pleasant warmth spread through him… a little too late to still be hailing from the comfort of sleep.

His voice came out as a deep rasp and he needed to clear his throat before he could finally respond. “You, uhm. You’ve changed.”

He immediately wanted to cuff himself. After everything, _that_ was the first thing out of his mouth? A comment on her looks. He averted his eyes, focussing on the small scratches on the table surface before him as he felt the heat crawl up his neck and into his cheeks. (Of course she would have changed out of the clothes she had slept in!)

Tina chuckled and gave him a low hum in reply. "I did." 

He tried again, this time a little more considerate. “Sorry. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

She leaned back against the door with a sigh, tugging a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she turned her face away from him. She seemed embarrassed, for lack of a better word.

Silence spread out between them, neither knowing what more to say or how to convey it. Newt desperately wished for something to occupy his hands with, but for once found nothing useful to grasp. An annoying habit he hadn't been able to break, yet. Likely, never would. Instead his fingers moved to fiddle with the chain of his fob watch. 

“Thank you,” she finally said. “For helping me, bringing me home. You didn’t have to.”

Newt stopped his fidgeting and looked at her. “Of course! Of course, I did.”

There were so many questions on his mind. Questions he wasn’t sure he should ask… or wanted an honest answer to. But some of them were more persistent than the others and so he finally settled on voicing the loudest one first.

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.” She sighed again, clearly uncomfortable. Newt grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked. "Sorry, I-"

“Someone must’ve put a little extra in my drink,” she said. “At the bar. I remember selling a cigar to one of the men there, then taking a drink from my own glass at the back.” She shrugged. “I didn’t feel so good afterwards and went to find Queenie -” A frown. ”- and then things get hazy.”

Newt nodded in understanding. 

“Well, you did find your sister. Or she found you, I don’t know for sure. You were quite… delirious when she enlisted me to bring you home safely.”

“Delirious?” An expression trepidation crossed her face. “Did I-?”

“You didn’t say or do anything untoward, don’t worry. You, uhm. You were out before we even got here.”

Despite the circumstances, a small smile tugged at his lips with the memory. She had leaned against his side the entire way home, then snuggled into his shoulder as he had been forced to carrying her up the stairs bridal-style (there just had been no way of waking her). It had felt nice... even though it shouldn't have.

Tina bit her lip as she gazed off into nowhere.

“You must be terribly cramped,” she said softly after a few moments of silence. “Sleeping in that chair all night can’t be comfortable.”

Newt shrugged, subtly rolling his neck again as the motion reminded him of the crick he still had. “I had intended to, uh, to wait up for your sister to get home.” He chuckled darkly. “It seems I’ve fallen asleep before she did, though. I’m currently not used to staying up so late.”

There was another pair of shoes by the door, telling him that the sister _had_ , in fact, come home. And she obviously had let him sleep on instead of sending him home immediately.

“Thanks, again.” Tina’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh! I shouldn’t be keeping you any longer. You probably got places to be this morning!”

Newt fumbled for his fob watch. It was barely past 8 o’clock, much earlier than he had expected. Fortunately, he didn’t have any pressing engagements until noon, even though he should probably stop by his lodgings before that.

“Uhm.” But he might have overstayed his welcome here already. He still _was_ a stranger to this woman, after all, intruding into the privacy of her home. He glanced at her, trying to judge if she wanted him gone… or if she really just had been concerned about keeping him from more important things. He couldn’t say for sure, but his instincts settled on the first.

“Yes. Yes, I should-” He gestured toward the door and looked around the room. Where had he left his coat last night? The floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved to get up.

Behind him, a tired voice sounded. Newt froze.

“Ugh, d’you two have to be so loud?” A shape moved behind the thing makeshift curtain door separating sleeping and living area, soon revealing Tina’s sister in a worn dressing gown. She moved up to Newt and snatched the blanket from his shoulders to wrap around own shoulders. “You look a little flushed, honey. I'm gonna take that back for myself, yeah?”

Newt swallowed but didn't reply. It _was_ cold in here, he noticed only now.

“Morning, Queenie.”

“Mornin’.” The blonde’s face softened as she regarded her sister. “How are you feelin’, Teen?”

“I’m good. Well-rested, for once.” She chuckled, then bit her lip after the apparent joke between them. “How is-? What did-?”

“I told ‘em you didn’t feel so well and went home.” She smirked. “Not technically a lie. You still got the job, but no pay for you last night.”

“Thanks.” Tina smiled at her, clearly relieved.

So was Newt, for entirely selfish reasons.

“Now, how ‘bout some coffee?” The blonde eyed him with a deep frown. “’Cause you look as tired as I feel, mistah.”

“Don’t, Queenie.” Tina shook her head. “He was just about to leave. He got things to do.”

“Oh, bushwa! He doesn’t want to leave any more than you want him to go.” The blonde raised her inquisitive eyebrow at him. “Ain’t that right, Newt?”

He felt himself blush. How was it that easy for her to read him? “I, uh. I don’t.”

“Uh huh.” He bit his tongue at the sister’s grin.

“Have anywhere to be, that is,” he hastily added and shrugged, glancing in the general direction of Tina’s feet. There was no way he could meet her eyes after that inadvertent admission. “I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have.”

A chuckle. “See, Teenie! He got time for a cup of Joe, at least.”

 

Newt left about an hour later, after a cup of too strong coffee and some dreadful attempts at small-talk. The talking had been going well enough as long as it was just Tina and him, but the addition of her sister had stopped all of his meagre progress and turned him into his usual silent self again. Listening, but unable to butt in on the conversation unless prompted.

Tina had noticed the change as well, frowning at him more than once.

He could only hope to apologize the next time he would see her.

 

* * *

 

_Your work sounds interesting. Far more so than mine._

Newt smiled. Even with the upsetting events of Sunday night, he had adhered to some parts of their routine at least and left the pack of cigarettes behind on his way out of the sister's flat. And with it the note he had managed to finish during his vigil in the night.

Tonight he had even more of an eye on Tina as usual, but she seemed to be doing well. Smiles, chuckles, conversation. Cigarettes, sir? Enjoy your evening! As if nothing had happened two nights ago. He recognised most of the faces in here by now and couldn’t help but wonder who had put those substances into her drink… and if they would try to harm her again.

The thought clawed at him all night.

 

“Newt!” She seemed alarmed to find him there, waiting at the corner of the alley. A little scared even, if he was being honest. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry. I just-” _Yes… what are you doing here? Scaring her, that’s what._ Lurking in the shadows and waiting for her to finish work so he could see her home safely. He really should have thought this through some more.

Tina wasn’t even on her own and in _need_ of some company, no. Ridiculous, to not have thought of that. There was her sister, of course, and with her a stout man who had his arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist in a gesture of deep familiarity. (Something inside him twinged at the sight.)

He shook his head. “I should go.”

“You’re heading south as well, aren’t ya?” Newt frowned at Queenie’s words. He did not- “Mind if we tag along, honey? There’s some not so nice neighbourhoods to get through.”

Slowly, he nodded, grateful for the excuse she gave him to accompany Tina after all, without giving himself away. (At least not more than he already had.) How had she even known?

The man by her side nodded at him in greeting and held out his hand. “Hi there. I’m Jacob.” Newt reluctantly shook it and quickly fell into step next to Tina, walking a few steps ahead of the couple as they trekked home.

“I didn’t know you lived in our neighbourhood,” she said about a block later, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Newt glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing a small smile on her face. A playful kind of smile. He cleared his throat, barely concealing a chuckle of his own. 

“Only in a broader sense of the word.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You don’t have to walk me home every time you’re here, you know?" Something contracted sharply inside his chest at her words. "I appreciate it, Newt, but it really isn’t necessary.”

It had been over two weeks now since he had followed his protective instinct and waited around to see Tina home at night. Eighteen days since someone had put a drug into her drink. She still didn’t know who it had been... and likely never would. And now he had begun to annoy her with his presence, as well, it seemed. Newt swallowed around the lump in his throat. This wasn't what he had intended.

Silence stretched out between them as he finally managed a curt nod and forced himself to answer. “I’ll stop, if that is your wish.”

But apparently his answer hadn’t been as nonchalant as he'd intended, either.

“I didn’t mean-.” She sighed. Or was it a huff of frustration? He couldn't tell. “Isn’t it too much of a hassle for you? You wait out in the dark after closing time, walk all the way home with us… and then track most of that way back all by yourself. In the middle of the night. In a city that’s not your own.”

So she had noticed it, him walking back the way they'd come after delivering her to the front door. He shrugged, regarding the wet cobble stones underneath before them as he dismissed all those too true points she made. “I get to spend more time with you.”

“Is that what this is about?” Tina had stopped in her tracks, staring at him in disbelief (or was it outrage?) when he finally turned around to wait for her. “You want to spend time with me?”

Oh! He shouldn’t have said that. He _really_ shouldn’t have said that. Newt bit his lip in an unsuccessful attempt to take those words back. This was definitely a line crossed, from barely acceptable to very much creepy behaviour. Something he had promised himself to never do.

He'd been cold and he'd been dead tired after his long day, and he'd been less careful than usual because of it. Now his heart suddenly beat wildly in his chest, preparing him for whatever choice of his fight-or-flight reflex he made. There was no way to make those words unheard, was there?

“Newt?”

So this was how it ended, this odd _thing_ between them. On a cold, drizzly night in the middle of a New York side street. He wasn’t even sure what to label _it_ these days, not a mere acquaintance any more but not yet a friendship either. (And these rules of human society were a tricky subject at best for him.)

He closed his eyes in defeat and nodded. _Might as well own up to it, Scamander._ He actually _would_ like to spend more time with her.

A hand came up to rest on his upper arm as he awaited her judgement, squeezing it lightly to gain his attention. His eyes opened to the sight of Tina, mere inches away from him. Smiling.

“Don’t you think we’d enjoy that precious time more if neither of us were cold and tired?”

 

* * *

 

Her next note gave nothing but a time and a place, followed by two simple and yet life-changing words. _Meet me?_

His hand shook as he wrote down his answer, from nerves as much as a small but growing hope.

_I’ll be there._

 

* * *

 

To everyone else it was a perfectly ordinary Saturday, sunny and almost a bit too warm for May. Summer had blown into the city as unexpectedly as winter had come just a few months prior, with no warning and within the matter of a few days. Newt, though, had eagerly awaited this day and now that it was here… His stomach was in tight knots as he turned into Avenue A. He probably only had this one chance to show her he was worth her time.

The little park she had directed him to was not far from where she lived. A large square of green between the busy streets and buildings on the Lower East Side. A nice spot for a walk. Birds were chirping and tweeten merrily between the trees and bushes lining the paved walkways and Newt smiled. Maybe that was a sign.

Tina was already waiting for him at the corner, even though he had timed his arrival a little early. She greeted him with her beautiful smile, even more dazzling in the daylight. “Hello, Newt.”

“Hello, Miss Tina,” he mumbled in return, staring at her for entirely too long.

Her smile became impossibly more radiant. And then they started walking, side by side and comfortably silent.

“Thank you for… indulging me,” he managed halfway into their first turn around the park, breaking the comfortable silence surrounding them. “You, uh. You didn’t have to.”

“I’ve never met up with someone from work, you know. Not like this, or in any other way.” Tina chuckled. “Once again, you’re my exception.”

Newt shook his head, still baffled by the notion. “Why me, though?” What made _him_ so special to her?

She took a few moments to answer to his impossible question, glancing at him now and again as they kept walking through the park. He hadn't even expected her to anymore when she finally spoke. “Did you know that your entire face lights up the moment you see me?”

He swallowed, feeling a blush creeping up his neck at her words. And here he thought he had kept his cards rather close to his chest until recently. How could he be such an open book to everyone when he himself was so unable to read?

“It’s nice, knowing that someone is genuinely happy just seeing you. ‘Specially in a place like that.” She looked away again. “You never try for anything… untoward.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would I do that?”

A small, tight smile. “Some of the guests think they don’t just buy tobacco and mints from me.”

Oh. Images of faked smiles and pressed laughter flashed before his eyes, her lingering longer at some tables than others. He shook his head to clear them away. “I'd rather admire from afar than buy affections like that.”

She hummed in agreement, giving him another smile. A genuine one.

But he stopped short a few moments later, as the reality of the situation suddenly hit him. Smiles. Short conversations over a pack of cigarettes. Lingering at his table for longer than strictly necessary. A little smile here or there across the room. Oh no.

“Newt?” Tina had stopped a few steps ahead and turned back to wait for him. “Are you okay?”

He gave her a nod and quickly followed after. “Yes. I just, uhm.” He blushed, unable to meet her eyes. “I just realised that I… that I actually might do just that, though. Buying affections.”

Tina chuckled and shook her head. “It’s not buying when it's been freely given, Newt.”

He stayed silent as he pondered the exact meaning behind her words, but soon was drawn out of this thoughts when she started to talk about her morning. He so loved to listen to her voice.

Newt Scamander learned two new things about Tina that afternoon. One, she liked to see him smile at her. And two, her eyes were the colour of mahogany.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me about yourself. How did you come to be a… zoologist?”

Another week had passed, another few notes read and delivered in the half-dark of her workplace. _Same time, same place?_ So here they were again, taking a long and enjoyable walk through Tompkins Square Park.

“Rather by accident, I’m afraid.” A low chuckle escaped him, when she regarded him with one eyebrow arched high in question.

“I was supposed to become a man of the law, like my father. But, uh, not long into my studies I found myself in the wrong lecture theatre by accident. Zoology, it turned out. The professor there talked about primates – apes – and the similarities between us humans and them. A prelude to his discussion about Darwin’s evolutionary theory, really.” He glanced at Tina, gauging her reaction to his gibbering so far. She still seemed interested to hear more, though.

“I was already on my way out again when, uhm. When the professor’s capuchin monkey discovered me. The little fellow just jumped from the desk at the font and bounded over, up onto my shoulder and merrily started to groom me.” Newt smirked at the memory. “Absolutely refused to leave, as well, so… I had to stay, didn’t I?”

Tina gave a laugh. “A monkey convinced you to study monkeys?”

Newt shrugged. She was not wrong. “Animals in general, yes. I found the matter of that single lecture far more interesting than anything I’d learned in Law, so I stuck around. Finally decided to drop my law studies in favour of zoology the year after. My parents weren’t best pleased, to put it mildly.”

He’d been 22 by that time, fought and survived the Great War that had left no one entirely undamaged. But he’d finally found a passion, something to do with his life, and his parents’ opinion had been the last thing to take into consideration for that choice.

“Maybe you should have let that capuchin convince them as well, huh?”

“Goodness, no.” He grimaced at the thought. “My parents wouldn’t have let those _filthy, disease-riddled tree rats_ anywhere near them – Father’s words, not mine. He wasn’t one for anything _exotic_.” (Ironically, the man had died of typhoid fever two years after – a disease that was believed to be only spread by humans.)

Tina rolled her eyes. “I’ve only ever seen those little guys as organ grinders before, but I gotta say… I think they’re rather cute.”

Newt’s heart made a little leap inside his chest.

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the following weeks, they developed yet another routine between them. In addition to his usual visits at the cabaret on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, he also spent his Saturday afternoons with Tina. They stuck to their walks for the most part, through Tompkins Square Park and slowly branching out into the neighbouring streets and along the East River. Only when the weather wouldn’t permit it did they duck into a little deli to keep dry, drinking tea and coffee as they talked.

They grew more familiar with each other, too. The third week, she asked him to finally drop the “Miss” and simply call her by her name. He learned her last name as well, Goldstein. She and her sister were orphans from the Spanish Flu, forced to look out for each other when their community failed to do so in mounting grief. Newt, in turn, shared stories about his own family and history with her. Eventually even some of the less pleasant parts, though she never pressed him for it.

The talking, he realised, actually became much easier in time. And even on the odd occasion when both sisters would greet him on Saturdays, he didn’t feel too uncomfortable around her any more. (At least since Queenie had stopped her attempts to hug him in her usual manner of greeting.)

“I’ve been in New York for about 9 months now,” he divulged one sunny afternoon. “Before that I’ve taken part in a number of expeditions for my research. Africa mostly, but also Asia and South America.”

“You travel a lot, huh?”

“Not at the moment, I’m finishing my book with the help of the Zoological Society here in New York.” And recently he had come to appreciate the fact that London had deemed his work a waste of time and resources the year before. “But I can’t say I’ve seen much of my family or England in the past five or so years.”

A frown. “Don’t you miss them?”

Newt shrugged. “I’ve never been very close to my brother, he’s a good bit older than me. And while I love my mother, she makes it far too clear what she thinks of my occupation. So letters are sufficient for the time being.”

The silence that followed was not the comfortable kind. Newt got the distinct feeling, he had said something wrong.

 

* * *

 

“Watch out!” He yanked Tina against him and out of the way as a lorry sped towards and past them down West 14th Street, quickly followed by a police vehicle in pursuit.

The commotion in their wake drew the attention of the pedestrians around them, helping those who hadn’t been as quick to react as him. Two cars had crashed just a little down the road in their attempt to escape the mad driver on the slippery wet pavement. Several other carts and vehicles collided all along the street, as well.

“Are you all right, Tina?” Newt shook his head and blinked. The distinctive sound of the police car siren still rang in his ears, even after the chase had continued into a different part of Manhattan.

“Yeah, thanks.” She didn’t seem much fazed by the excitement, simply shaking her head at the reckless driving before pulling him on and away from the crowd. “Let’s see what the paper has to say about _that_ tomorrow.”

He nodded in agreement, although he already had a pretty good idea what the whole thing might have been about. If any of it would make it to the press was questionable at best, though. He’d seen that type of car before, unmarked and nondescript, though only in sparse lamplight of the docks at night. Grimmson was busy with his illegal dealings again, it seemed. But hopefully no creatures, this time.

It took two whole blocks of walking before Newt noticed that their arms were still linked. His arm wrapped around hers, hand resting just above her elbow from when he had pulled her to safety. “Oh.”

He quickly tried to untangle himself, not wanting to force himself upon her like that. Really, he should have let go the moment she had told him she was fine! But Tina held on to his sleeve, stopping him from moving away entirely. Newt found himself staring at her, surprised. She smiled.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep walking like this.” She tentatively adjusted her hold on him, to his wrist, his forearm, eventually threading her arm around his elbow when he didn't pull away. “Would you mind that, Newt?”

He was too mesmerized by her face to answer directly, the glow from within that came with her smile and lit up her eyes and expression. Mahogany with a tinge of gold.

Strangely, he did not mind. A small smile tugged at his lips. He very much did _not_ mind.


	5. Chapter 5

As the days had turned longer with summer, so had their weekly outings. But every Saturday without fail Newt brought her home again, right to the front door of her building with just a few minutes to spare before she had to get ready for work again.

A smile. "I’ll see you tomorrow?"

It was a well-established routine he at first didn’t want, and now didn't dare break. "I’ll be there."

 

* * *

 

_May I propose a deviation from our usual Saturday afternoons, Tina? If you don't mind, I would like to take you to the zoo next weekend._

He had wanted to ask her in person on their walk the day before, but by the time their day had come to and end… Well, the finding and saying of right words hadn't been his forte for as long as he could remember. He had kept silent and stuck to their routine. 

Newt read the end of his note one more time before rolling it up and fitting it into the well-worn pack of cigarettes. This way at least he wouldn't put her on the spot. 

 

* * *

 

He met Tina at their usual spot, the western corner of the Square. But this time they took a turn into the opposite direction, using the subway to get to 5th Avenue and the corner of Central Park. By the time they had reached their destination, Central Park Zoo, Newt’s nerves had finally settled down enough to actually look forward to the day and let Tina have a glimpse into his own world for a change.

“So, this is where _you_ work,” she remarked, looking at the mobs of people that had gathered here even on this far too sunny Saturday in late July. She chuckled. “I thought you didn’t like crowds?”

“My work is usually limited to, uh, the other side of those cages and the buildings behind.” He smirked and nodded at the visitors. “The parts where none of them are allowed to go.” 

Tina grinned. "So you work _at_ the zoo after all!"

Newt rolled his eyes in reply. He lead her through his own, private tour of the Central Park Zoo then, giving her some of the more interesting but not commonly known details of the creatures they encountered. Tina laughed and smiled, intently listening to his every word as he shared with her some anecdotes about his own experiences with those animals. It was a new feeling entirely, being paid _so much_ of her attention. 

 

The last stop of their tour was the Primate House where he showed her around the enclosures of apes and monkeys before leading her away from the usual crowd. 

“Where are we going, Newt?” Tina chuckled as he ushered through one the doors clearly marked _Employees Only_ and firmly locked the door behind them.

“My actual place of work.” He smiled, despite his mounting nerves, and gestured for her to follow him. There was one more thing he had to show her. “Or one of them at least. I usually move between here and the Bronx Zoological Garden.”

They ended up in a cramped little room with a desk, graciously called his office by permission of the Zoological Society. Tina giggled when her eyes fell onto the outrageous mess it had exploded into.

“My apologies,” he muttered, picking some of the loose pages and clutter from the floor. “It’s not usually as, uh, wild in here.”

A sigh escaped him. He’d taken great care to clean up the usual mess he surrounded himself with, but well… apparently someone had become bored and didn’t stay where he was supposed to. A little someone sitting exactly where he had left him, sticking out his tongue at him. 

“Really?” He put some more clutter on his desk, then stopped in front of the spacious cage in the corner of the room. “Why did you have to do that, hm? I told you I’d be bringing a friend today.”

He got another waggle of tongue in answer, followed by a screeching chuckle as Newt pulled open the now unlocked door to take the little creature out of his cage. 

“Now, this here-” He turned around to find Tina staring. “- is Pickett. My white-faced capuchin monkey. He’s also responsible for the mess in here, because this is _not_ how I left it earlier today.”

Pickett screeched and nodded gleefully at the assessment. He really was incorrigible. 

She gasped. “Oh, he's cute!”

“He’s a little nuisance.” Newt chuckled and petted him affectionately. Nuisance... and friend nonetheless.

“You want to, uhm-” He offered her the arm with the monkey in question. “You want to hold him? He’s very tame.”

Newt breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded eagerly. To her delight, Pickett immediately jumped onto her barely raised arm. "Why hello there, Pickett!"

The monkey took a good long look at Tina's face, then curiously began to investigate the rest of this previously announced visitor-friend. 

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Tina noted and chuckled. “Sweet little thing.” She carefully petted the capuchin and Newt could have sworn, there was a little purr to be heard from Pick.

“Be cautious, though, he’s not all as sweet as he seems.”

Tina frowned at his words. Currently, the monkey perched on her shoulder, tail lying around her neck as he had a look at her ear. Generally being his sweetest possible self while she gently scratched his back. Unlike her, Newt had known him for too long to fall for the ruse any more. But still, the sight had him smile uncharacteristically bright while he put his desk back to some resemblance of order.

“Is he the one you told me about? At the lecture? ”

Newt nodded. “He is. The Professor gave him into my care after I finished my studies with him. Apparently, he was being insufferable without me around.”

“Well, I can see why you stayed in the lecture that day. He’s really cuddly.”

He hummed in agreement and watched Pickett giving Tina a loving hug. _Here it comes._ Without warning, the little guy jumped away and back over to his favourite human’s arms. Newt wasn’t surprised at all, though, and held out his hand knowingly. “Right. Give it here, Pick.”

Pickett screeched, sounding very offended as Tina watched the interaction with confusion.  Oh, he was a good actor.

“What did I say about things that don’t belong to you, hm? Give it back, you little bugger.” Now he pouted, big sad eyes and everything.

"Pickett." Newt didn’t budge until Pickett finally produced Tina’s necklace from seemingly out of nowhere, smirking. He really _was_ incorrigible. 

"Oh!" She gasped, grasping at her neck to find her locket had really gone. “How did he-?”

Newt chuckled and, under the capuchin’s protest, returned the stolen goods back into her hands. “I’m sorry about that. He’s good with locks… and he likes shiny things. You can put two and two together. Jewellery is irresistible.”

“You sneaky little guy, you!” Despite being the victim of petty theft, she still grinned as she put the chain back around her neck. Much to his relief.

“You can see why he’s not a favourite among my colleagues. He knows how to get out of his cage when I’m not here, likes to pilfer their fob watches especially. The Professor wouldn’t tell me where he got him or who trained him, but I could swear there were some criminal intentions involved.”

Tina laughed and moved closer to pet the monkey some more. “So… he’s your pet?”

“Yes.” Newt nodded and fed the capuchin a little treat from his jacket pocket. “I’ve tried to rehabilitate him with groups of his own kind for a few years now but... unlike my other cases, quite unsuccessfully I’m afraid.” He gave her a wry grin. “This little guy just won’t have it.”

A solitary animal. Pickett was here to stay.

(He hoped, Tina wouldn’t mind.) 

 

“When, uhm. When do you have to be at work again?” 

“By 9. Doors open at 9:30, the show starts at 10.” 

Newt nodded. “Good. I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.”

It was past closing time by the time they had left Pickett and the zoo behind, far later than Newt had anticipated. She would be cutting it close today, but she’d make it. She didn’t look too happy, though.

“What’s the matter, Tina?”

She hook her head and sighed. “Sometimes I feel just like an animal at the zoo, you know. The people at the _Varieté_ – they leer and grab and want me to entertain them...”

Newt swallowed. What was he supposed to say to that?

She gave him a soft smile. “Not you, Newt. All you do is smile and watch from your corner table. Took you three whole months before you dared to just ask my name, or anything more. You probably didn’t even know how right you were when you said you weren’t like the others.“

He frowned. "But... I can’t possibly be the only man behaving like a normal person in there.”

A grimace. “Between the alcohol and the powders… a lot of men turn into beasts themselves. They forget about civility and restraint. And for some it doesn’t even take that much.”

Unbidden memories from that Sunday night in April returned to the forefront of his mind. Was that the reason no one else had seemed particularly worried about her? As if it hadn’t been first time someone’s drink had been tinkered with? He shuddered.

“Why do you work there, Tina? Surely there’s other jobs out there for you, less hazardous jobs.” He bit his lip, hoping not to have offended her with his question. But it had burned on his mind for a long while already, desperately wanting to be asked.

She sighed. “I was a secretary, you know? Grimmson Trading Company. Lost my job, ‘cause I did more than I was supposed to, uncovered something I wasn’t meant to see.” She chuckled darkly. “But finding a new job like that is hard when you get fired from your only position with no letter of recommendation.”

Newt nodded in understanding. She didn’t have much other choice, then, an unmarried woman with no family to help out but a younger sister. Grimmson Trading, though… He had a feeling about what it must have been that Tina had uncovered in the paperwork. He might have stopped the illegal trade with exotic animals last year, but the rest of it still continued to this day, he was sure.

“I was real lucky when Queenie got me the job at the _Varieté_. That was about two months before you first showed up, I think.” She smiled. “I’ve liked it a little more since then.”

He couldn’t help a smile at her words. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stopping looking, though.”

“No.” Tina chuckled. “I keep busy as a typist at the Police Headquarters on most days. It’s no steady work, just small scraps of typing for even smaller pay.” She shrugged. “But at least it’s something. Maybe I’ll get lucky there one of these days.”

“You work two jobs?” Newt suddenly felt incredibly privileged having employment, temporary as it might be, _and_ his small inheritance to live off. “And you still agree to see me in your precious spare time.”

“Of course I do.” She gave him a warm look and squeezed his arm. “But that’s why I only ever see you on Saturdays, they’re the least busy on Centre Street. Most of the regular typists have Sundays off, so that’s when there are most jobs for spares like me.”

Newt squeezed her hand in return. Maybe a little longer than was strictly necessary.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me… what is this turning into, Newt?” Tina’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant when she asked the question in lieu of of her usual good-bye, just a week later.

Newt would be leaving New York the next day, another two weeks in Philadelphia to check up on the progress with some of his previous charges. Two weeks in which he would undoubtedly miss Tina. He hadn’t been able take his eyes off her even more so than usual today. And Tina had noticed, too, meeting his eyes more often than usual as they strolled through the summery green of the Park.

He bit his lip, unsure of the answer to that question himself. But one thing he _was_ sure of, without a doubt in his mind. “I like you, Tina.”

A smile. “I like you, too.”

Newt was relieved to hear her reciprocate the sentiment, feeling a grin tug at his lips as a pleasant kind of warmth bloomed in his chest and spread through him. But a proper answer to her question was still illusive, unlike the chain of his watch to fiddle with. 

“I, uh. I’m not good with people, you know. Or the jungle of rules that comes with them.” He frowned, staring into the distance down Rivington Street for a moment. “No, I know for a fact that jungles are easier to navigate than human societies.”

Tina chuckled softly. “You’d only need the right guide by your side, I imagine.”

“Yes.” Newt nodded in agreement, focussing back on her. “But I think I might have gotten a little better at it these past… months.”

Eight months. Had it really been that long already? Had it really only been so short a time? Frankly, he could barely remember what his days had been like without her in them. Her smile was especially lovely today. 

"Uhm." He blinked. What had he wanted to say? 

“You have, but-" She bit her lip. "-I can't help wonder, what it is you want."

Mahogany eyes gazed at him, unsure for the first time since he'd met her. Tina was never unsure, she was strong and independent and wonderful... But he had an answer to that question at least. 

“I want to continue this way, spending time with you. As much as I can get away with, really. Possibly a life-time, if that were okay with you. If not, you only-”

She sucked in a sharp breath at his words. It was only then that Newt realised that he had actually _said_ that last part aloud. He glanced at her, wide-eyed and absolutely unsure what that gasp had meant. What she would do. 

A whisper. “I think I’d be okay with that.” 

“You would?” She nodded. “You really-?”

"Yes, really." Tina moved closer, slowly raising her hand to cradle his cheek. A light shudder went through him at the contact, quickly followed by a pleasant and comforting sensation. “But I was never sure if that was something _you’d_ want, Newt.”

“I wasn’t either,” he admitted and leaned into her touch, hesitantly covering her hand with his own. It seemed as though he had found his exception in her as well. "But I do."

“Then I got my answer, I think.” A smile played around her lips. One Newt hadn't seen before, small but threatening to consume her entire expression. “A courtship, yes? That's the first step on the way to… to a life-time, you see.”

Newt hummed in agreement. That much he knew already - and it sounded very good to him. "A courtship, Tina." 

And then her utterly radiant smile was the only thing he could focus on.


	6. Chapter 6

“Cigarettes, sir?”

Newt smiled into his drink. Her voice was like a soothing balm after two long weeks away, calming an inner agitation he hadn’t even realised was there before now.

“The usual, please,” he murmured in reply and finally glanced at her. She smiled at him, brighter than ever, and seemed very happy to see him, too.

“Right away.” His voice had come out far softer than he had intended, but Tina heard and understood him nonetheless. The perks of following the same script each night. 

_Same time, same place?_ her note said. He couldn’t help but read it in an excited, hopeful kind of voice. Surely, she’d be just as eager for Saturday as he was?

_Same time, same place._  
_I missed you._

 

* * *

 

He brought flowers, a bunch of white and blue lisianthus with greens. It had been her birthday just the day before and they had caught his eye as he’d walked past the flower vendor’s cart on his way to met her. Something in those colours... they reminded him of her, a creamy white and light kind of blue. Just like the frocks and blouses she so often wore on their outings.

“But I didn’t give you anything for your birthday,” she protested softly. He smiled. How could he not, seeing her glowing in happiness over the small gesture.

“You did.” One eyebrow rose in question. Newt bit his lip before explaining. “You gave me a smile, Tina. And some much needed company.”

Her gaze softened at his confession. “They’re beautiful, Newt. Thank you.”

She carried them in the crook of her arm as they went on their walk, still smiling brightly as they took a detour to her flat so the blossoms wouldn’t wither too quickly in the sticky heat of August. He hadn’t set foot into her house since that night he'd been tasked to bring her home, but he found it much the same. Small, run-down... homey.

(The flowers made a pretty picture on the mantle above the hearth.)

 

* * *

 

“Will I see you tomorrow night?”

Another Saturday afternoon had passed, walking, talking, laughing with Tina. The woman he was courting. (The thought still baffled him.) All those rules and expectations of human society still confused him, but he was happy to note that nothing had drastically changed between them since then. Nothing but an new sense of assurance. Assurance that his presence in her life was indeed welcome. 

Newt nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Her arm had been linked with his throughout most of their walk, hips brushing together from time to time as they got out of step. But all of this had done exactly nothing to alleviate the need that had been growing in him as of late. A hunger he knew all too well. Maybe – just maybe – there was a chance... 

“Tina.” She had already turned to go inside but now patiently waited for him to speak what was on his mind. He should have disliked any of this contact today, but his general aversion to touch seemed to have softened significantly when it came to her. "May I, uhm." He cleared his throat. “May I ask you for a hug?”

It wasn’t too outrageous a request, he knew. He’d seen many other couples do the same... and more. But unlike her sister, Tina hadn’t ever tried with him. He risked to glance up at her, gauging her reaction. 

Tina took a step closer, smiling as she moved down to the bottom of the staircase. “Of course, Newt.”

She reached out for his shoulder, squeezing his arm before leaning in. And then her arms were around him, gently pulling him against her chest. Newt closed his eyes and sighed. Yes, this was just what he had needed, craved. He brought his own arms up and around, hands hesitantly resting on her back as he soaked up the precious human contact that for once did not repel him. 

“I don’t really like people touching me,” he admitted softly into her shoulder a little later. He still hadn't let go of her. 

A nod. “I know.”

Newt smiled. Of course she had known. “But this… Can we do this more often?"

“Yes.” She chuckled and nodded more vigorously against him. “Yes, we can do this whenever you like.” 

The tight knot inside him slowly unravelled.

 

* * *

 

He had arrived a later than usual tonight, thanks to a little capuchin nuisance and his inclination for pilfering shiny objects from his neighbours, finding his usual corner table at the _Varieté Noir_ taken. The view was a different one from his new seat on the other side of the floor, and yet the same as he glimpsed Tina making her way towards him.

It was September and another night too warm for the season had the city and the cabaret in its grip. Somewhere between her sweet smiles and his second drink of fine whiskey, Newt lost his sense of time and drifted off into what he could only describe as bliss. 

He watched Tina make her rounds when a man at one of the nearby tables finally drew his attention. Her lovely smile grew tight as she offered her tray at said table, loosing a bit of the glow that usually accompanied it. Newt blinked and sat up. Something was not right. It took some effort but between two acts on the stage, he actually managed to make out the man’s words to her. He spoke of _selling goo_ _ds,_ called her inappropriate endearments _,_ offered her money for further _services_ … A startled laugh before the band began to play again and he could hear no more.

She had told him about these customers, but he’d never witnessed it from so up close. Newt saw red the moment that loathsome man put his hand around her waist, touching her so obviously against her will. The way her face just suddenly…

Teeth grinding together, he stood and marched over there. “Excuse me!”

Tina gave him a sharp look, softly shaking her head at him to tell him not to do what he had clearly come over for. He swallowed, fighting hard against his instincts to protect the woman he had hopes to call his one day. But she clearly didn’t want his help. Or need it. 

“What d'you want?” drawled one of the older men at the table as he stood there in indecision. “Don’t you see we’re busy here, boy?”

Newt squared his shoulders at the barely veiled insult. Did this vile man not show the least bit of respect to anyone?

“Yes, I can see that.” He looked at Tina once more before addressing the entire group of older men sitting at the table. “I can also see that she’s clearly not offering the goods you’re wanting from her.”

The man still touching Tina smirked and smacked her rear. “Oh, you want to try for a piece of her yourself, eh? Good luck with that, boy.”

The other men howled in laughter, but Newt didn’t rise to the challenge. “I require something she actually _does_ offer. So if you don’t mind-” He laid an arm around Tina's shoulders and insistently steered her away from the group, clear out of their reach. “-I think you’ve taken possession of her long enough, gentlemen.”

Four outraged, indignant faces stared at him when he looked back, but he didn’t particularly care about them as he directed Tina back to his own table, still very much _in character_. Thankfully, the elderly quartet left the club soon after, a bowed procession of black-and-white dinner jackets that immediately reminded him of a succession of penguins. He pushed the amusing image back and focussed on Tina instead. She didn’t look pleased with him, though.

“Why did you do that?” she hissed under her breath as she busied herself rearranging the items on her tray.

Newt frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am!”

“Tina-”

“Shh!” Her expression morphed back into a professional smile. “Not here.”

Newt nodded. “I’m sorry. Two of those chocolates, please? I still have to keep the ruse up for our audience, don’t I.” There were indeed a few people watching them, but for once Newt did not feel too bothered by it. He had only done what was right, after all.

Tina frowned for a moment, then quickly resumed her professional behaviour and did as he had asked. A nod, a smile. Enjoy your evening, sir. And then she was on her way to the bar… and hopefully the small back room he knew to be located behind it.

Newt sighed as the last act for the night entered the stage. That hadn’t been the reaction he had expected. At least a small nod in recognition for his help. A secret smile. But not this… brisk, business-like attitude. As if he’d been the one in the wrong somehow. Hopefully she’d talk to him later, after hours when it was just the two of them.

He’d just decided to call it a night and wait for her outside when the towering shadow of one Mr. Skender appeared next to him, asking him in no uncertain terms to leave the premises _._ The owner of the establishment didn’t like to see his well-paying guests harassed by some nobody with an accent, it seemed.

Newt went without a hassle, not wanting to make life for Tina even worse. Who knew what those old bastards had complained about regarding _her_.

 

“Are you all right, Tina?” She had finally come out about an hour later, as usual escorted by her sister and Jacob, who he now knew to be on of the barkeepers.

Tina nodded. “They won’t be letting you back in again, you know? Skender told me after he escorted you upstairs. ”

“I know.” Newt growled. “Apparently high-paying customers are more important than the employees here.”

Queenie snorted. “How d’you think Teenie got the job in the first place? The girl before her decided to say something and got the sack for it.” She shook her head. “There’s enough pretty faces out here to fill the gap within a day or two.”

So that’s why she had pleaded for him to stay out of it. The couple soon went on without them. No doubt, Queenie and her near-clairvoyance had sensed that some privacy for a talk was needed. Newt was immensely thankful.

Sheepishly, he offered Tina one of her own chocolates. “Are you in any trouble for what I did?”

She frowned, but took the offered sweet and started walking. “It wasn’t me who was rude to them. That was all you, mister.”

Newt breathed a sigh of relief, one more of his worries dissipated. Tina loosing her job, again, would have been quite a blow to the sisters, he knew by now. And while he would have offered to help them out in any way he could, especially since he would have been to blame this time, Tina Goldstein had too much pride in her independence to take him up on it. Courtship or not.

He glanced at her, noticing her still not being too happy with him. But she kept her silence for another ten minutes of brisk walking, until he just had to go and break the brittle calm.

“Tina-?”

“What were you thinking, Newt?” 

Newt bit back his question as she talked over him, sensing that his own words would be left unheard until she had run out of steam. And she’d had a full hour to build up to this. 

“You could have cost me my job today! If someone’d found out about us… You know I’m not supposed to be involved with the patrons. We’d both have been out on the street.”

Her voice had taken a slightly higher pitch, one he had never heard from her before. She must be truly annoyed with him.

“I-” _You what, Scamander?_ He certainly wasn't sorry for stepping in. 

“I don’t need your protection, Newt.” He blinked, frowned. “I can manage well enough on my own! Done so for over a year now, in fact. So what made you _think_ I needed your help tonight?”

Newt had no reply, not that she expected one. As much he had would like to be... he wasn’t even _there_ half of the time she was working, much less in a capacity that allowed him to act when someone else was making her feel uncomfortable. 

“But there you were, swooping in like a cheap dime novel hero, come to _save the day_.” She shook her head and snorted, muttering something under her breath. 

“Let me tell you, if you think that I'm some damsel in distress, a poor woman in need of your charity, you can actually get lost. You hear me?”

Was that what she thought of him? Of herself? A case for his charity. Newt swallowed. That had been the last thought on his mind around her, when they had first met and certainly since he had gotten to know her better. She was her own woman, and he loved her for it. Where was this coming from? 

"Do you hear me, Newt?!" The hand on his arm startled him from his thoughts, grasping just a little too tight, a little too sudden for comfort.

“Don't!” he barked, a little louder than intended. He shrunk away and stopped walking, in need of some air and space around him. With a quick gaze he took in his surroundings… Tompkins Square Park, ironically. It looked eerie in the dark, and yet also comfortingly familiar. He moved to sit on one of the wooden benches at the entrance, head between the knees as her words still echoed inside his skull. _  
_

They fed directly into his temper that had come back to live somewhere between the cabaret and Tina telling him to get lost. And the prickling sensation burning on his arm didn't help matters either. As much as she had obviously needed to vent, he didn’t want to turn this into an actual fight. _Keep calm, Scamander._ He took a deep breath, fisting handfuls of his hair until he felt more himself again. (This hadn't happened in a good long while.) 

“Don't,” he repeated a little later, thoughts more ordered and calmed but still looking at the ground between his feet. “Don't say that, please. You’re not a charity case, Tina." He knew she was still there, seeing the tips of her shoes in his peripheral vision. "And I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I just-" He shook his head. "I acted on impulse."

Not always a good thing to do, he had learned a long while ago. And yet he couldn't help it around Tina. But it seemed that he'd wounded her pride so much more tonight than any groping men could have accomplished. He shuddered as the images of the night flashed before his eyes again. 

“Did you know that you just… that you just _stop_?” His gaze moved up to look at her, standing just a few steps before him. A look of worry had replaced her anger by now, softening her features again. 

“Stop?”

Newt nodded. “It’s like... a candle blown out. You just stop glowing, from the inside. And you're not you any more.”

She frowned. But how else could he possible explain to her what exactly had caused him to act? 

“I know how uncomfortable it is to have strangers touch you. So I just…” He shrugged, swallowed. “No one has that right, Tina.”

She finally came to sit down next to him. “You’ve never actually seen it happen before, have you?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “No. But you won’t have me interfere any more, since I’m no longer allowed back in there.”

He started pulling at his hair again as the reality of it hit him. He wouldn’t be able to see her any more, at least during the week. Not with her working all those impossible hours. Typist by day, cigarette girl at night. He could walk her home after work, of course... but knowing Tina, she would put a stop to that for his sake before the first week had passed. (If she wanted to see him again at all, that was.) 

“Newt, can I hug you?” The question surprised him, but he nodded in assent and soon after melted into her tentative embrace. "I'm sorry for..." 

"I know." He hadn't expected his reaction anymore than she had.

After a few more moments, she pulled back, arms still loosely wound around his neck, and just looked at him. As did he. He'd never seen her dimples from so up close. 

“You know, I’m very tempted to steal a kiss from you right now.” His eyes shot up in surprise to meet hers. “Have been for a while, really. But I got a feeling that kind of surprise wouldn't be welcome.”

The two shared a smile just before Tina pulled away and out of his arm. 

But then Newt did something unprecedented. He leaned in and gave her the kiss she had desired.

 

“Thank you,” she later said, standing on the steps leading up to her front door.

“Whatever for?”

“Going after those old geezers… Do you even know who you’ve pissed off back there?” He shook his head. “Only four of the richest guys in the city.”

Newt chuckled, but Tina sighed and rested her forehead against his shoulder in sudden exhaustion.

“They’re gonna be a nightmare. It’s been bad enough with Grimmson coming in to gloat, but now... his cronies are gonna join in as well, I have a feeling.”

Newt tensed. “Grimmson? Your old boss?” The one who had fired her over discovering what he suspected to be an illicit import operation. The same he had already tried (and at least partially succeeded) to shut down last year. 

Tina nodded. “And he’s friends with my new boss... as he so likes to remind me.”

Newt tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Grimmson. Despite the late hour, his determined mind began to sift through what he knew already. He needed to get back in contact with a few of his informants in New York’s seedy underworld, just like last year. (Had it been a year already?) There had to be a way to make that man pay for what he had done to his woman.

“Tina, dear.” He carefully tilted her head up to look at her. “How much do you still remember about those papers you found at Grimmson Trading?”


	7. Chapter 7

Newt used his newly freed evenings to look for something of use against Grimmson, a task he had dedicated most of his attention to since that night. It wouldn’t change the fact that Tina had lost one job because of him and was miserable at the other… but it would give him some sort of satisfaction to see the man fall.

If Saturdays had been his favourite day of the week before, they were even more so now. It felt strange, not seeing Tina during the week, even if it had been mostly glimpses from afar. He missed her and the effortless company. And while his afternoon outings with Tina had been the highlight of his week before, they were now essential to his happiness.

(And to hers. Work had turned into a dreary affair again for Tina, without having a familiar face there just happy to _see_ her.)

 

* * *

 

He used her sister’s birthday in October as an excuse to come and visit her besides their regular dates, knocking on the sisters’ door in the morning with a serious smile and a bunch of sunflowers.

“Happy birthday, Queenie.”

“Why thanks, Newt!” She smiled knowingly while arranging the yellow blossoms on the mantle of their fireplace. (Newt's attention had long since drifted from the birthday girl to the other woman in the room.) 

“Newt! It’s been a while." Jacob, climbing up the stairs of the house and grinning in his usual manner, quickly drew his attention away from her again, though. "And I see you got my girl some flowers, huh. Do I need to be jealous?”

Newt bit his lip, unsure whether to admit that they were for Tina’s enjoyment just as much as her sister’s. But Queenie had already breezed past him through the door, chuckling and kissing her – fiancé? He wasn’t sure where exactly those two stood, apart from acting like newly-weds for as long as he had known them.

"Don't tease him, honey. You know they're not for _your_ girl."

Newt blushed. There was no chance of being subtle around Queenie Goldstein, it seemed. Grinning, the two walked off to a shared breakfast, leaving him all alone with Tina.

And he finally got a chance to look his fill of her. "Hello." 

“Hey,” she finally said, smiling softly. “The flowers are beautiful. But I, uh. I gotta go to work, Newt.”

He nodded. "Of course. May I walk with you?" 

240 Centre Street wasn't a long way to go, but he was headed in that direction anyway. She kissed his cheek as they parted ways at Bowery station, with a promise of more time together the very next day.

(He was in a wonderful mood all day, causing more than one colleague to wonder what had brought it on.)

 

* * *

 

“I got it, Newt!” Despite the sudden cold-spell, she had waited for him on the front steps to her house, running up to him with a grin and jumping up and down in glee with her arms around him. “I got it!”

“Got what, Tina?” Newt took a gentle step back and squeezed her arm in apology. He was glad to see her happy, but also a bit overwhelmed for a moment. Tina didn't seem to mind, though. (Some days were better than others when it came to hugs… today was not one of them, it seemed.)

“The job! I finally got a job, Newt!” He had never seen her beam so brightly. 

He grinned and touched her cheek, utterly unable to express in words just how happy these news made him. "The police?"

Tina nodded. “One of the regular typists got married and left. They offered me her position when I came in yesterday.” She spent the first hour of their walk smiling brightly, excitedly sharing little bits and pieces about what that new position would entail. And the pay, apparently, was far better than her vendor job would yield even at the best of days.

“I’m gonna hand in my notice tonight.”

Newt was glad to hear it. “Before… or after?”

A knowing smile. “Before. Queenie’s already found a replacement for me. Everyone’s looking for work at the Lower East Side, you know. I just hope the poor girl knows what’s coming for her.”

He grimaced, wishing he could somehow work towards closing that place down, as well, now that it didn’t provide Tina’s main income any longer.

“Will you come with me tonight?” she asked. “Or do you have other plans?”

Newt shook his head and squeezed her arm, carefully linked with his elbow. “No, Tina. I’m all yours.”

 

* * *

 

Mid-November saw them settle into a new routine, once again. One where Tina worked in an office on weekdays and stayed home at night. And Newt was not the only one who felt relieved about that change.

“Will you come over for dinner tomorrow?” she asked him on Sunday afternoon, their new fixed day for dates. She looked so excited to be able to offer this invitation, an evening together that did not take place in the half-dark of a seedy cabaret, one of them working.

Newt smiled.

(It would turn into a new routine for them, as well.)

 

* * *

 

“It’s a little lonely now sometimes,” she admitted after dinner, glancing at her sister. Two candles were burning low on the window sill behind her. “Queenie’s still working nights, and she spends the rest of her time somewhere between Jacob and that seamstress’ shop she’s helping out for.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’d be happier back working at the _Varieté_ , Teen!”

Tina rolled her eyes at her younger sister. “No. But I’d be happier if you’d get away from there as well.”

“We're working on that." A uncharacteristic blush stole itself over the blonde’s cheeks as she shared a look with Jacob across the table. 

Jacob nodded. "Yeah. I got a bank to agree on a loan for my bakery last week.”

Newt smiled into his glass. It sounded like his offer to take a look over his plans the month before had paid off already. (What difference a single line added could make.)

 

The Goldstein-Kowalski wedding took place just over a month later. It was a merry affair, full of unfamiliar customs and smiling faces. Tina's most of all and he spend the better part of the celebration staring at her.

It was one of Jacob's many friends who elbowed him with a chuckle. "You'll be breaking the glass next, huh?"

Newt blushed, but didn't disagree. 

 

* * *

 

Harold Grimmson was finally caught red-handed on a bitter-cold night in late February. Newt could not have wished for a better birthday present, even though the dinner his small circle of friends had insisted on was a very close second. The police had worked on a case against him for months now… but only with the help of one of their very own typists, a former secretary of Grimmson’s, did they find the incriminating evidence they had been looking for.

That night, the New York Zoological Society found themselves suddenly in possession of two half-grown Bengal tiger cubs, three Egyptian cobras and whole array of exotic birds. Newt hadn’t even been aware that the trafficking had continued after the bust on Grimmson’s operations the year before, but apparently so. He had his work cut out for him getting those traumatized creatures settled and adjusted to a new, better life.

Still, he couldn’t stop smiling. Not only was Tina free of that loathsome man, she had also gotten back at him.

 

* * *

 

Newt took her out to dinner on a snowy evening in March. Just over a year ago he had received her first written message, a match book that had started this entire confusing (and yet wonderful) thing. Tonight, he had news of his own to share.

“Indefinitely?”

Newt nodded. “It took them long enough to decide, but yes. I’m going to stay in New York and keep working with the zoo.”

Her smile was one that would be seared into his mind forever.

“There _is_ a little catch, however.” Newt bit his lip before he explained. He would also be part of an expedition, taking him away for three whole months during the summer. But Tina took the news remarkably well, simply nodded.

“I had a feeling you’d be back to travelling soon. It’s been what, a year and a half now?” A small smile. “But at least now I know that you’ll come _back_ , too.”

“Of course I will, never doubt that." Newt smiled, reaching out for her hand across the table. "My dear Tina.”

 

They walked by the _Varieté Noir_ on their way home. It was a strange sight to both: glittering lights turned off, posters and advertisements ripped away, the pomp of days gone by hidden in permanent darkness. The cabaret was closed down not long ago. Tina had been right, it turned out. Grimmson and his friends _had_ been the best-paying patrons of that establishment.

No one would set foot in there again for a good long while… not that either of them had been feeling inclined to do so.

 

* * *

 

“I will miss you.”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

Her voice was muffled by his coat, but it did nothing to hide the sound of a sniffle. Newt pulled her tightly against him and held her for a few more precious moments before taking a step back.

“I have something for you.” Smiling nervously, he rummaged through the pocket of his overcoat and finally handed her a pack of cigarettes, worn and battered from a far longer use than it had ever been intended for.

Tina gasped. “Is that-?”

He blushed and nodded. “I kept it, but never got a chance to hand it back to you after that night I got thrown out. Not, uh, not until now at least.”

“I’d hoped to never see one of these again, you know?” But she gave him a smile and took it, securely wrapping both her hands around it like a treasure before she moved to open it.

Newt reached out and covered her hands with his. “Don’t open it until tomorrow, please. Will you do that for me?”

A questioning gaze.

A pleading smile.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” He sighed, looking back towards the ship. “I need to go. But I‘ll be back in time for your birthday, my dear.”

A hum. “You better be.” She chuckled, despite the tears gathering in her eyes once again. “Three months… I expect letters from you, Mister Scamander.”

His gaze softened and Newt closed the distance between them to give her one more kiss before he left. “And you shall have them, Tina. Of course, you shall have them.”

 

His trusty travel companion already waited for him aboard the ship, the only one there not surprised at the fact that he _had a girl_ to see him off. He had waved at her once more from the gangplank, most likely with a lovesick expression on his face. Three months was a long time… and he only hoped he had done this right.

“If I let you out of your cage now, will you behave?” Pickett gave a screeching laugh, that had him roll his eyes as he took possession of his bunk. “Of course, I didn’t think so.” 

Two minutes later, the little capuchin monkey had opened the lock on his cage again and quickly jumped up onto Newt's shoulder just as he left his cabin.

 

* * *

 

Monday morning saw Tina Goldstein sipping on her coffee, staring at the little blue pack of cigarettes sitting before her. It had burned a whole into her pocket all day yesterday, begging her to uncover its secrets. But she had promised not to open it until today. This morning, though, she felt far more apprehensive about the thing. What if it was not what she had expected? Not what Queenie’s grins and comments had already prepared her for. 

She sighed. _Stop your fretting, Tina, and get it over with._

Slowly, she pushed open the flap of the familiar box, a gesture she had repeated so often in another life, many months ago. Three times a week on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays after Newt had been in to see her, write her. His scribble on the flap was still there, though slightly worn away with age by now. _Good evening, Tina. My name is Newt._ The note that had set all of this into motion. And it couldn't be a coincidence that exactly a year ago today, they had set out on their first walk together. 

Inside the pack, she found a note from him, just as expected. Not just a simple message on a ripped-out notebook page, though, no. A proper letter of heavy cream paper, written in deep blue ink. A smaller, sealed envelope was hidden within its folds. She smiled.

 

_My dearest Tina._

_Many miles we have walked together in the past year and yet only have taken the first of many steps. I believe it is time for you and I to take another and this time I shall be first to advance a foot._

_We spoke about a lifetime on that evening we took our first step. Please know that it is still my greatest and most ardent desire to this day, a lifetime with you by my side. Not merely for the beauty you hold without but the beauty that lies within you. I am drawn to it like a moth to flame, my dear, and would gladly burn for just a chance to glimpse it again._

_I am in luck, though. Your flame has always been a gentle one, a guiding light through the jungles of life rather than the destructive force it could have been. A place to feel welcome and a place to call home. I consider myself so very fortunate to have found it and can only hope to provide you with the same in return._

_Tina, I am not good with words and I am not good with people. But I will always try for you to the best of my ability._ _Please accept my ring and my hand in marriage. You would make me the happiest man on earth, if I could call you my betrothed when I return._

_I am yours, if you will have me, for I was spellbound by your incandescence the moment I laid eyes upon your smile._

_Newt_

 

A single tear slid down her cheek as she put his letter aside, catching in the dimple of her blinding smile. 

The simple but beautiful ring fit her finger perfectly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this little story! Let me know what you think, your comments and kudos will be very much appreciated.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you are interested in getting a notification for any new story I post, you can subscribe to my [AO3 profile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensnwritingdesks/pseuds/ravensnwritingdesks).  
> You can also follow my tumblr [@ravens-and-writings](https://ravens-and-writings.tumblr.com/) for updates, previews and other fun stuff about Newtina, Fantastic Beasts and the Potterverse in general.  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Many Miles Have We Walked Together (The Journey's Just Begun)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727367) by [KatieHavok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok)




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